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Yes, Mistress – Part I

I had been with Annabel for three months. After two and a half, she had asked me to move in with her.

After a week of living together, I arrived home to find the card on the hall table.

Simple rules: last one naked wins xxx

With the card was a blindfold and a pair of handcuffs, which I had to assume I was expected to put on. I turned the card over.

Safe word: rattlesnake

The fact that she was into kinky stuff was no surprise. “Mistress” Annabel, despite her very girly name, was very popular with men and women alike who wanted to be humiliated, degraded or dominated.

But that was business.

With me, she was always sweet, kind, shy even. We met through an online agency. Our first date was at a quiet little Italian restaurant where I knew the staff and we got a quiet corner to ourselves. Annabel had pizza, and confessed to me later that she was afraid the spaghetti would go all over her face.

That was the kind of person she was with me. Gone was the jet black wig, replaced with her golden bob. Gone were the latex clothes, replaced with linen and cotton. Gone was the bad attitude. She thought I was daring because I wore thongs, for goodness sake.

Daisy, really? Even to the office?

So the note came as something of a surprise.

Still, I have a golden rule to cover these situations: in the bedroom, anything goes. As I had no objections to the blindfold or cuffs, I shrugged and headed upstairs, lay on the bed, cuffed one wrist to the bedpost and put on the blindfold.

I’m not sure when I fell asleep.

As I came round, I tried to open my eyes but quickly remembered the blindfold. When I tried to pull it off, I found that both of my hands were now secured above my head.

“Ah, I hope you had a good sleep.”

It sounded like Annabel’s voice. But it didn’t sound like Annabel. My Annabel would have asked if I had a good sleep. This person made it sound like I was going to need it. I felt the bed move as she sat on it beside me.

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Her fingers brushed across my cheek, then she whispered very close to my ear. “Such a beautiful little flower, aren’t you? Do you remember the rules?”

“Rules?”

She laughed. “Last one naked wins. I’m going to make you beg me to take your clothes off.”

Ah, so that was the game. It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen me naked before. Our sex life was rampant. Clearly it was the power play that she craved. I reminded myself of the golden rule. “Yes, Mistress,” I said.

“Oh, good girl! Just for that, I’m going to start with something fun.”

I heard a splash, and felt her lifting up the hem of my vest. She exposed my chest and icy cold water dripped onto my stomach, making me flinch and forcing a giggle from my lips.

“Oh, you like that, do you?” She ran a finger down my stomach, making me shiver.

The ice against my right nipple came as a shock. I was unable to squirm away from it, my hands tied as they were. I tried to shift my body, but it would only move so far. Annabel laughed. As the ice melted it soaked my bra, spreading cold water around the rest of my breast. I could feel my nipple hardening, pressing against the fabric.

She quickly moved onto the left breast, swirling the ice around my areola in an ever widening pattern. I squirmed again, tried to turn away from her, but she placed a hand gently on my chest. It was enough to hold me in place.

“Do you want me to remove your bra? I’ll stop. I promise.”

I gritted my teeth. “No.”

I heard another splash and the crush of ice. Again it was applied to my nipples. I thought it would get easier. It didn’t. As fresh ice was used over and over on first one breast, then the other, the nerve endings started to cry out for release.

Finally I yelped with the pain. “OK, take it off,” I said, “take it off.”

“And your vest?”

“Yes, take them off.”

Fresh ice was placed against my nipple and held there. “Beg me.”

I laughed through clenched teeth. “Please, Annabel, take it off.”

“Call me Mistress, I like that.” The ice stayed where it was.

“Yes, Mistress. Please, Mistress.”

It was a relief to feel the ice taken off my nipple. The pain was becoming unbearable. She drew it down my stomach, making me shiver, then reached underneath me and unclasped my bra. It felt good as it was lifted away, the icy, wet fabric no longer against my skin.

“Oh, your poor nipples,” she cooed. “They are so red. Let me help.”

The numbness from the cold mixed with hypersensitivity from the pain. I gasped as her mouth was placed over my right nipple, the warmth of her tongue lapping at the hard little nub. She sucked and I sighed. Intense pleasure and pain.

While she kissed my nipples, her hands lifted my vest over my head to my wrists. She lifted her head away from my chest and unlocked the handcuffs, then slipped my hands out of my vest.

“Turn over.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

This story got so long that I had to split it into two parts – follow my blog, or follow me on Twitter to make sure you don’t miss what Annabel has in store for Daisy next!

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